| The World's Last Question, and Its Beautiful Answer... |
| Qualification is sometimes a very taxing chore. I mean I know how to count, that's not too overly tough, unless of course you're making me count ants on an anthill, stars in the sky, or warts on grandma's inner thighs. But ranking them is slightly more difficult. I found myself today sitting on my thumb and debating which of the common questions is the most important. Who? When? Why? Where? What? and How? And I was having a bugger of a time coming up with a list in ascending order of importance of these questions. And just to make this clear, no this is not a strange thing to think about. You try having everything else in the world figured out. It's hard being a genius ya know. Anyway I was left with this as the final question for which I did not have the perfect, truthful answer, and thusly made it the subject of the day's meditation. And do you know what I came up with? Absolutely nothing. I was sure that this was the one question I would never answer. And of course I could not live with myself knowing that there was something unknowable in the universe. So I drove out to the cliffs of Dover, undid my seat belt, climbed out of the car, had one last Pepsi, and then one last coke just to keep things even, then I threw myself over the edge. On the way down I wasn't really thinking much, which was the first time in years and it was rather pleasant to hear my brain shut up. But, as you, the ever astute reader, have surely come to the conclusion already, I did not fall to my death that day, sorry. Rather my good old genes took over and I reflexively caught hold of a branch that was protruding from the side of the cliff. And, as nature would have it, this branch was just strong enough to hold my weight. And as I dangled there, death within my reach, my unanswerable question repopped to the front of my consciousness. And I set about the task of determining the qualitative value of the various inquisitive words. First, HOW did I get here? Well that question took a couple hours to answer and I ended up with the reason being that I was called a butt pirate in 4th grade by Matt Hanson. This answer clearly did not hold it's worth in helium, so I moved on. WHEN did I get here? Well right now, obviously. And it is obvious that such an easy to answer question could not hold any value whatsoever. Similar to asking how many times a day one masturbates, it is simply too easy. Next I tried, WHAT am I doing here? And that was apparent to my stimulated brain; I am hanging on to a branch to keep from falling to my death by exerting various muscle groups and praying like a nun in heat. WHERE am I? Had a very similar answer, I am hanging on to a branch on the edge of a cliff in Dover. Frustrated by my inability to come up with a list yet again I flew onward to, WHO am I? Well, I told myself, you are you so why are you asking me? Everyone knows there's nothing of worth in that question. WHY am I here? Was followed by some sort of train of thought about a train of animals in the olden days who revolted and took over for the humans but then the elephant conductor burned his tail in that little fire they had in the engine in cartoons and the train derailed and all the animals were running around with various wounds and such, bleeding and dying and burning all over. This made me laugh so hard I lost my hold on the branch and fell. But I did not die because of some amazing coincidence that eludes my mind right now and here I am in a hospital ready to start living again because I have found the answer to the last question in the world. Don't ask questions. Ever. |